


die for you, inside of you

by luhlia



Series: Where the Lines Overlap [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luhlia/pseuds/luhlia
Summary: He pictures her reaching down inside of him through his mouth to take hold of his heart in her palms.





	die for you, inside of you

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a dark fic with a sadomasochistic Sasuke, and so this is the by product of my attempt.

_There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes an exceptional mighty sound_

...

**die for you inside of you**

* * *

_He dreams of red_.

* * *

**Otogakure**

The stench of blood is thick and fetid. It invades his nose and congests his lungs.

Sasuke looks at her, looks at the scalpel in her fingers and the curl in her lips– _crooked with a slight pout_ –and the glint of curious malign in her eyes, and in this he sees the first of many smiles he would come to know.

Karin slides the scalpel on the skin of her specimen for the day, gently, slowly, her wrist tilting gracefully like she's playing a delicate song on strings, as if one minuscule mistake in movement would render the harmony undone. The path the scalpel treads creates gaping wounds on the man's body of a canvas, drawing lines of blood that spills down the gurney and pools on her feet. The performance is grotesque and messy and scanty. There is blood everywhere, in his nose, in his head, so palpable the taste makes him sick, but Karin's hands are covered in red, so much red, like her eyes and her hair that Sasuke is held captive. Beguiled. She seems to him, in that light and from then on, an incorporeal embodiment of redness that encompasses his whole being.

He would like to tell her this once, but not yet. Not now.

He watches her, enthralled, as she digs on the pylorus and villus―

 _that's what they're called Sasuke, not just innards_  (she thought him sometime ago)

―and he sees himself willfully sprawled on the gurney, his bareness laid for her to create gaping wounds of smiles and bleeding tears upon his skin until he is all but red, and he imagines the pain, the sting, of each mark bearing a name.

And then, after she has carved him, he will emerge glorious and a magnificent masterpiece skillfully wrought by Karin's red-painted hands.

.

.

.

.

He needs her hands to—

But Karin's hands have ceased movement.

Sasuke shifts his gaze to her face and he finds her staring at him, breaking her concentration for the first time of that moment.

His mouth runs dry, fingers twitching.

"What?" he asks, defensively, and hopes that his voice didn't sound cracked.

Karin does not say anything, she just smiles, a knowing smile, tilted to the side and half-veiled.

Sasuke can't keep anything from her.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_I won't be denied by you._

* * *

**Taka**

The tub is big enough for the two of them, she sits on top of him, shirtless with her lower garments soaked to the bone while he is fully naked. The water is cold against his skin and empty between his fingers. He does not touch her. He is not allowed. Not yet. He would not want it any other way or so.

Karin wraps her hands around his neck, tangling them around his throat, fingers splayed atop tendons. Sasuke releases a shuddering breath and meets her steady gaze. She pushes him gently, slowly, so very slowly, a certain slowness it almost hurts that he pretends he's not letting himself sink deeper in the water.

And then Sasuke's in the water, welcoming and engulfing him, Karin's hands holding his head down by his throat. He sees her passive face, watching him with her burning liquid red eyes and he decides to watch her too as he waits.

It does not take long before his lungs start to protest and the ringing begins in his ears, the buzzing and alarming pounding in his head grating onto his skull, still he waits, even as tremors sets in to his body he does not trash, does not fight. He lies there in peaceful submission against his obvious need for air as Karin's delicate hands grows tighter around his neck. A frenzied orchestra storms within him. This is how it works.

.

.

.

Sasuke needs her.

He needs her hands.

He needs her hands to―

He needs her to―

But then she pulls him up and the air attacks him, viciously flooding his lungs. He coughs and flails, his hazy vision clearing, and Karin's distorted face comes whole again. She pushes the hair off his face and he knows that she could tell the begging look in his eyes that he needs her hands to―but then she shakes her head and caress his cheeks, her thumb skimming across his lips. Her fingers hot against his skin, her touch burning, and he almost,  _almost_ , unravels.

Sasuke traces a mark on her chest he has long gone memorized, a spot above her left breast, just one of the many scars he has left on the beauty of her skin. He kisses it, with an apology,  _always_  with an apology, and then bites her there, once more, again, and he hears her, Karin's voice and breath caught between a sigh and a moan.

Sasuke lets himself go.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_You are a drug, I cannot quit you._

* * *

**With freedom and wings on their back**

She claims territory over every inch of his body, her fingers scratching and clawing, her gnashing teeth scraping on any skin her mouth is able to reach. She writhes and arches beneath him, fluid, graceful and uncontrolled. She tastes of salt and heat and desire and Sasuke buries himself in her, in her hair, in her skin, in the juncture of her neck, in her bosom, in between her legs, every part and every inch he wants to bury himself there.

He wants to sink into her, inside of her, become a part of her, a part of Karin. He wants to peel her skin and crawl beneath it, live in between her vessels and the folds of her heart, where her blood is hot and electric and every part of her is his. And if he does, everything will be perfect and beautiful.

He tells her this as he thrusts into her, and she responds to him with screams and moans.

Sasuke turns into a painting of blue and violet and red and lines, so many angry lines, and he revels in it's blissful pain, the sensation swerving and teetering him onto the edge, drowning him. Karin digs her fingers onto his back, harder and harder and harder, and he sinks himself into her deeper and deeper and deeper.

.

.

.

_(All he knows is this._

_He wants to pick her apart._

_He wants to be in her every breath._

_He needs her._

_He needs her to—)_

And then he bucks, jerks, and shakes.

Karin teaches him how to be lost.

And Sasuke comes undone.

.

.

.

.

.

He needs her.

He needs her to love him.

But she tells him it's not love.

.

.

.

(sweeter than―

.

.

.

_"Come with me, Karin. I need you."_

.

.

.

―Heaven)

.

.

.

It is too convoluted to be constricted with such label.

.

.

.

(hotter than―

.

.

.

_("If you reeeally need me, I'll go with you.")_

.

.

.

―Hell)

.

.

.

It is not love.

But Karin lets him cling to her with the possibility of everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Musical Inspiration: Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine, Suck it Up by She Wants Revenge, Animal by Secondhand Serenade, and You are a Drug by Secondhand Serenade.


End file.
